Read 1958 - Not Safe to be Free for Free Online Page A

the cinema a few paces behind Floyd Delaney.
    Delaney was talking to his business manager, Harry Stone, a big, heavily built man who wore rimless glasses and a fawn lightweight suit. Sweat beads made his baldhead glisten.
    Thiry wondered if this might be the opportunity he had been waiting for to approach Delaney. If only he could get Delaney interested in Lucille, his financial troubles would be over. There were now only three more days of the Festival and then his chances of getting Delaney to sign Lucille up would be gone.
    Lucille was Thiry’s one great hope. His agency had been going downhill now for the past two years and Lucille was the only promising star on his shrinking list of clients. The others were has-beens: good, efficient actors and actresses who at one time had been names, but now were too old for anything but bit parts and the commission he got from them wasn’t enough to take care of the office overheads.
    Thiry glanced at his wristwatch. It was just on six. He had told Lucille to meet him in the Plaza bar at six. If he hurried on ahead of Delaney, he could fix it that he and Lucille were in the lobby when Delaney entered the hotel. As he was about to move towards the cinema exit, Delaney walked directly past him.
    Grabbing at the opportunity, Thiry said, “Good afternoon Mr. Delaney.”
    Floyd Delaney gave him a quick, sharp stare and then paused.
    Delaney was tall and broad with blonde, wavy hair, turning white at the temples. His deeply tanned face was arresting rather than handsome. He had grey eyes, a cleft chin and a sensitive mouth. He looked a lot younger than his fifty-five years.
    He frowned, trying to recall where he had seen Thiry before.
    “Let’s see . . . you are . . .?”
    Harry Stone moved up.
    “This is Jean Thiry, Mr. Delaney. Lucille Balu’s agent.”
    Delaney’s face showed sudden interest.
    “Yeah, that’s right. I remember.” He offered his hand to Thiry. “You have a nice little property in that kid, Thiry. I’ve been thinking I might do something about her. How’s she fixed?”
    Thiry took Delaney’s hand as if it were made of eggshells.
    “She’s just finished a picture, Mr. Delaney. She’s free right now.”
    “Suppose we all have a drink together?” Delaney said. “I’m not free until nine. Bring her along then. Nine in the bar, eh?”
    “Yes, Mr. Delaney,” Thiry said, scarcely believing his good fortune. “We’ll be there and thanks.”
    Delaney nodded and, taking Stone’s arm, hurried with him across the foyer and down to where his big Bentley was standing in the sunshine.
    His heart thumping with excitement, Thiry ran down the cinema steps and started along the Croisette towards the Plaza hotel.
    What a break! he was thinking. Delaney wouldn’t be wasting his time buying us drinks if he wasn’t really interested. This could be a thirty million franc contract! A ten per cent cut on that figure would be a lifesaver! He had difficulty in stopping himself from breaking into a run. What a bit of luck for Lucille too! he thought. Well, she deserved it. She had worked hard, hadn’t given herself airs, hadn’t been hard to handle, had done just what he had told her to do and now this looked as if both of them were going to reap their reward.
    He pushed his way through the crowd in the Plaza lobby and entered the bar. The clock above the bar told him it was now five past six. The bar was pretty crowded. He looked around but he couldn’t see Lucille.
    Not like her to be late, he thought, elbowing his way to the bar. Feeling it was a moment to celebrate, he ordered a whisky and soda, and, while he was drinking it, he leaned against the bar and watched the entrance.
    Joe Kerr, sipping his third whisky, watched him.
    A page put his head around the bar door and called, “Monsieur Jean Thiry, please.”
    Thiry signalled to the boy, who came over and gave him a slip of paper.
    Frowning and watched by Joe Kerr, Thiry read the message.
    Telephone message for